


the sea can be healing

by lestrangle



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Best Friends, Best Friends to Lovers, Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestrangle/pseuds/lestrangle
Summary: A one-shot following the events of Redline (2x13) in which Jane and Lisbon decide that they're best friends.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	the sea can be healing

In true Jane fashion, he brings her to a restaurant that overlooks the beach. And he manages to sweet-talk the waitress into giving them a table by the window that gives them a picturesque view of the sea. The sand is a soft hue of golden, radiating a comforting warmth. Tumultuous waves roll in, chaos meeting calm; it reminds her of them and it makes her smile. 

"At the risk of stroking your massive ego, you were right. The food here is good. The view too. What's the occasion?" Lisbon asks, curiosity piqued. 

Jane grins and replies without skipping a beat. "Consider it a premature apology for the next time I piss you off. Perhaps the next time you're stuck doing paperwork after I pull off a genius stunt that takes yet another murderer off the streets of Sacramento, you can recall this lovely restaurant and hopefully that should divert your thoughts of wanting to punch me in the nose."

She rolls her eyes but her expression holds no real annoyance. "Trust me, I can simultaneously recall this lovely restaurant and _actually_ punch you in the nose."

Unfazed by her violent proposition, he gives her a lopsided grin. 

"That's not why you brought me here," she insists. "Rest of the team busy?"

"You had a tension headache all day. I've heard the sea can be healing..." 

She’s speechless, beyond touched. He could be so goddamn sweet sometimes. She looks back at the now soothing sea, the remnants of her headache wash away with the waves. She channels her gratitude into an appreciative smile, hoping that it conveys the message. It does. He exhales softly, relieved that she feels better. 

"Anyways, even if they weren't busy, Grace isn't my best friend, neither are Cho or Rigsby," he remarks casually and slides a piece of steak into his mouth. 

Lisbon looks at him, stunned by the implication.

"I'm- I'm your best friend?" Her voice cracks ever so slightly, emotion threatening to spill into her words. 

Jane nods as he continues to hack away at his steak.

"Of course you are. Who else would it be?" he says, and to him, it's that simple. 

Initially, her neutral expression doesn’t mirror her heartbeat, a cacophonous thrumming rhythm, kindled by words she’s never known. Then she looks at him intently, waiting for him to laugh and declare it a joke. But he holds her gaze, unwavering. The earnestness in his eyes elicits a breath she didn't realise she was holding. 

Prior to this moment, she had only ever referred to him as her consultant, her pain-in-the-ass colleague, and on occasion, even her friend. But _best_ friend is new. And it warms her heart to know that the man sitting in front of her, the one burdened by tragedy that no human should ever have to endure, seeks comfort in _her_. 

"Well, I've never really thought about this but I guess you're my best friend too," she says after a moment and then pauses. "Come to think of it, I've never really had a best friend before," she admits. 

His eyes soften, touched by her confession. She's greeted with one of her secretly favourite sights, his widening smile. 

"In that case, I'm honored to be your first Lisbon," he chuckles before raising his half empty glass of water. She mimics him, raising her own.

"To being best friends," he says and they both clink their glasses, the air around them feeling considerably lighter.

They fall back into their familiar banter as they continue to eat. He steals a fry off her plate, and she smiles at how much she genuinely enjoys his company. Her mind flits back to his earlier admission. A myriad of moments come to mind, creating a mosaic. Moments that signify their partnership, chaotic, intricate and multicoloured; pieces glued together with trust. Laughter shared over the years, secrets and meals. The corner holds deeper, sadder shades of blue; repressed grief that threatens to spill, _almost_ —just almost overshadowed by honey-like amber, the comfort they find in each other, warm and sweet. Their mutual chase for a serial killer juts out, sharp, repulsive and red. Sunlight slips beneath the crack, a sliver of hope that she diverts her attention to. A flawed piece of art, she decides, yet beautiful and uniquely _theirs_. If the mosaic were to ever shatter, her heart would follow suit. 

His attempts at stealing more of her fries interrupt her train of thoughts. She slaps his hand away and tells him to order his own. Aware of the fact that the people seated around them may very well assume that they're on a date, she finds that she can't bring herself to care. What she is doing is having lunch with her best friend, others be damned.

Eventually, Jane calls for the cheque. Lisbon opens her mouth, presumably to inform him that she can pay for herself, but he beats her to it. He leans across the table and brings his index finger and thumb to her lips, pinching her mouth shut.

"I'm not going to let you pay in an expensive restaurant that I brought you to. Forgive me for being old-fashioned about this but you can’t pay."

She narrows her eyes at him and pulls his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Watch me," she challenges him, reaching into her pocket.

He gives her a shit-eating grin. One that she's all too familiar with and one that she's come to recognize only spells trouble. That's when she realizes that her wallet is missing, the only contents of both pockets being her keys.

"Seriously? You picked my pockets, Jane?" she huffs, irritated.

He waves the wallet in front of her, clearly amused by his own antics. She gets up on her feet and grabs his wrist but unfortunately for her, he's also fast. He stands up, exploiting their height difference, and deftly transfers the wallet to his other hand, ensuring that it's out of her reach. Instead of engaging in futile attempts that would only continue to amuse him, she resorts to pinching his side and takes satisfaction in his grimace. 

"You are so going to pay for this," Lisbon threatens.

"And I fully intend to," he replies instantly, failing to contain his laughter.

She huffs and pinches him again to wipe the grin off his stupid face. Only Jane could turn pick-pocketing into some sort of gallant act. 

"Oh, come on Lisbon, you walked right into that one."

She shakes her head in defeat and simultaneously rolls her eyes, but not before he sees her biting back a smile.

"Whatever, Jane. But this means that ice-cream is on me."

"My, my, Agent Lisbon, threatening me with ice-cream? That sounds awful."

Luckily for him, the cheque arrives at the right moment and prevents Lisbon from reacting to his snarky comment with more bodily harm. Only after their meals are payed for in full does he return her wallet. She snatches it back and then swiftly sticks her hand into his suit pocket, retrieving the key to the grey Mercedes.

"Unlike you, I don't need to be discreet when picking pockets," she says, dangling the key in front of him.

He laughs, holding his hands up in defeat. He likes to think that he knows everything about her and yet time and time again, she manages to surprise him. 

"Come on dummy, let's get ice-cream. I'm driving," she informs him, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the restaurant.

"Promise me you'll break the speed limit?" 

"Nope. I'll drive way under just to irritate you." 

They make their way to the car, hand in hand, bickering about acceptable driving speeds and eventually ice-cream flavours. She briefly looks up at his smiling face. 

_Best friends_ , she reiterates mentally. 

Two words. Perfectly befitting of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I was procrastinating writing a report on chemical reactors (or something equally mundane) when this idea came to mind. I've never written a fic before so posting this is pretty nerve wracking aaah. I hope I haven't botched the characterizations. Feedback would be very much appreciated (either here or you could drop me a message on my twitter @lestrangle).  
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
